


Don't Ask, Don't Tell

by anr



Category: Stargate Atlantis RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-16
Updated: 2007-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/pseuds/anr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Torri and Joe denied there was something going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Ask, Don't Tell

  


* * *

  


Torri's not sure how she got stuck being the designated driver at the _Welcome to Atlantis_ party David hosts for Jason but that's okay. Things have been rather hectic since they all got back to the set and she's barely had a chance to catch up with most of the people she _does_ know, let alone the new guy. Hopefully the drive to his place will give them a chance to maybe get to know each other a little.

"So," says Jason, and she glances over to find him staring at her, his expression even more blank than usual, "you and Joe."

_Then again_ , she thinks, _silence can be golden_. Flicking on the indicator, she checks her blind spot. "How long did you say you've been an actor for?"

From the corner of her eye, she sees him shrug. "Sixteen years, give or take."

"Then you know the first rule of the industry." It's not really a question and, when he doesn't answer, she knows that he does. She points to the upcoming intersection. "Left again?"

"Mmm."

Turning into his street, she pulls into the driveway and kills the ignition. As Jason undoes his seatbelt and opens the door, she shifts in her seat and smiles at him brightly. "You know what I think? I think you're gonna fit in with the rest of us just fine."

His answering smile is slow and easy going; _knowing_. "Yeah," he agrees. "Me too."

  


* * *

  


She's just finished explaining what it was like to work on, _Save My Soul_ , when her mom says, "Luke said he saw you last week."

"Really?" she says, confused. "I don't remember seeing him."

"Oh, yes. He was at some nightclub in Toronto -- I don't remember which one -- and he said he saw you and a friend entering the Hilton."

Her stomach flips, and she forces out a laugh. "I don't think so, Mom. I haven't had time to think lately, let alone steal away to some five star hotel."

"Hmm." Her mom sounds almost disappointed. "He sounded so _sure_ when he said it was you." A not-so-subtle pause. "So, no new... friends... in your life that we should know about?"

"Nope," she says, and laughs again to smother the lie, "sorry."

  


* * *

  


The guys throw a party for her after news get out about Weir's fate on the show and, while celebrating is the very _last_ thing she feels like doing, she does appreciate the gesture. There's balloons and karaoke, all her favourite foods, and, to top it all off, enough alcohol to start their own black market.

She excuses herself, however, when David and Paul decide to start on a Bette Midler medley; needs just a moment to catch her breath and her emotions. There's nobody in the backyard and she moves off the patio and leans against the side of the house. Hidden in the shadows, she wishes she'd had the foresight to bring a beer with her.

From inside, _Wind Beneath My Wings_ segues into _Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy_ with a burst of laughter from Claudia and Amanda; she should probably go back in.

Before she can move, however, the back door opens and she looks up to see Joe and Kathy stepping out onto the patio.

"... I told the babysitter we'd be back before twelve."

"C'mon, Kath -- they haven't even brought out the cake yet."

"And how long's that going to take? I'd be surprised if any of them are still sober enough to remember there is dessert."

"Knock it off -- they're not that far gone."

"No? I'm surprised you can tell, seeing as how you haven't taken your eyes off of _her_ all night."

"Don't be ridiculous. We've barely had the chance to say two words to Torri tonight."

"That's _not_ what I said, and you know it."

"No, what _I_ know is that we promised we'd come tonight and show our support. She's leaving the show, damnit, not --"

She's heard enough ( _more_ than enough, truth be told). As quietly as she can, she steps to the side and ducks around the corner of the house; heads for the front.

She needs a stronger drink.

  


* * *

  


One of the best things about out-of-town conventions would have to be the chances it gives her to fly first class. Taking the pillow handed to her, she positions it behind her head. "Thank you."

Smiling, the stewardess reaches for another one. "And for your husband?" she asks, nodding at Joe, and Torri starts.

"Oh, he's not --"

And Joe says, "I'm not --"

And the stewardess smiles again. "My mistake," she apologises, passing a pillow to Joe. She nods to both of them. "Enjoy the rest of your flight," she says, and then moves ahead to the next row.

Underneath the blankets covering their laps, his hand tightens on her thigh.

  


* * *

  


It takes three swipes at her alarm clock to realise the offending noise is actually coming from her phone, and another two blind fumbles before her hand closes over it and drags it to her ear. She doesn't bother lifting her head from its pillow, and her greeting is borderline coherent. "'lo?"

"Congratulations," replies her agent sarcastically, "you just made _ET_."

It takes her a moment to work out what he's said (and, more importantly, to work what it _means_ ) and the comprehension is not pleasant. Oh, _shit_.

"I'm assuming you'll want to decline their request for an interview, but we'll need to submit a statement."

Opening her eyes, she stares at her clock; counts down the seconds until exactly one minute has passed.

" _Torri_?" he pushes, when she doesn't answer.

She clears her throat. "No comment," she says, and disconnects on his sharp intake of air. It's the first time she's ever given him such a cliched soundbyte and she turns the cell off before he can call her back and demand a better response. Tossing the phone away, she closes her eyes again.

Behind her, Joe loops an arm around her waist, tugging her back into closer contact. "Mmm," he says, his breath warm on the back of her neck, "good morning."

Scratching her nails lightly along his arm, she smiles. "Yeah," she says, "it is."

  


* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> ORIGINAL URL: <http://anr.livejournal.com/287795.html>


End file.
